


Lana Does Nails And Talks About Trauma

by mattiebluebird (ScarlettBond)



Category: Gone Series - Michael Grant
Genre: Gen, Post-Canon, Post-FAYZ, this is probably out of character im sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 04:26:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30049878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarlettBond/pseuds/mattiebluebird
Summary: Lana let out a short, dry laugh. "Did I ever tell you why my mom sent me out here to Perdido Beach?""No. Why?""I got caught sneaking vodka to my boyfriend. The only reason I got caught is because I put it in my handbag, which wasn'tquitebig enough to hold it. I would've used my book bag, but…" She shook her head. "It didn't go with my outfit." She laughed that dry, humorless laugh again. "I got sent to Perdido Beach because my stupid fucking book bag didn't go with my outfit."
Relationships: Diana Ladris & Lana Arwen Lazar, Lana Arwen Lazar & Sanjit Brattle-Chance, can be read as romantic if you like - Relationship
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	Lana Does Nails And Talks About Trauma

"You like this kind of stuff?" Lana asked, surveying Sanjit's supply of make-up. It was basic stuff—foundation, concealer, eyeshadow, lipstick, nail polish—but it was still more than she'd seen since before the FAYZ, and more expensive than anything she could ever afford.

"It was my mom's," he admitted. "But I saw it and I figured: hey, it's not like she's using it anymore. I've tried out some of it, with… varying results."

Virtue poked his head in. "He looked like a clown," he told Lana. "I wish I took pictures."

"Traitor," Sanjit spat. "Get out of my room." He grabbed a pillow and threw it at his brother. It hit the now-closed door and slid to the floor.

Lana inspected the make-up for another moment, considering, then made her decision and started rifling through the nail polish. "Sit," she barked at Sanjit.

Lana was still unsure about letting Sanjit's siblings move in with her. She liked Sanjit well enough—he was funny and light-hearted and reminded her to take it easy—but people got on her nerves more than they used to. Especially kids. They didn't know the definition of _boundaries_ or _quiet_ , and Lana was a huge fan of both.

Still, this was stuff she'd been good at before the FAYZ. It wouldn't cost her anything but a few minutes of time to give him some pointers.

Sanjit sat cautiously, giving her a suspicious look. "What are you doing..?"

Lana shrugged. "I was into this stuff before the FAYZ," she said simply. She held up two bottles. "Orange, pink, purple, or turquoise?"

"Orange."

"Give me your hand."

Sanjit held out his hand. Lana grabbed the nail file and dragged the flat of it across his nail. "You do this so the paint catches on the scratches," she explained. "Makes it last longer. At least, that's what my mom told me."

Lana patiently— _surprisingly_ patiently—did Sanjit's nails and helped him apply the foundation ("without a primer I can't say how well it'll hold") and glittery orange eyeshadow ("personally, I find orange to be unbearably obnoxious, but it goes well with your skin tone"). Afterward, she held up a mirror and showed him the results.

"It…" Sanjit leaned forward, examining his face from every angle. "Looks _surprisingly_ good."

Lana snorted. "What, doubting my abilities?"

"No, doubting my attractiveness," Sanjit reassured easily.

"And here I thought you were 'the most attractive man in the FAYZ'," she mocked, repeating his own words from a few days earlier.

"Hey, I can do both. I am large, I contain multitudes, yada yada." He waved a hand. "Besides, have you _seen_ most of the dudes in the FAYZ? Being the prettiest among them isn't exactly a difficult feat."

"Fair enough," she conceded. Fashionable clothes and make-up were a rare, if not non-existent commodity in the FAYZ. These days people were lucky if they looked somewhat clean and healthy.

Lana sat up and started putting the supplies away. "Don't you wanna do yours?" Sanjit asked. "I thought you said you were into this kinda stuff."

Lana shrugged again. "Maybe before, but now… it just seems kind of silly, doesn't it?" She let out a short, dry laugh. "Did I ever tell you why my mom sent me out here to Perdido Beach?"

"No. Why?"

"I got caught sneaking vodka to my boyfriend. The only reason I got caught is because I put it in my handbag, which wasn't _quite_ big enough to hold it. I would've used my book bag, but…" She shook her head. "It didn't go with my outfit." She laughed that dry, humorless laugh again. "I got sent to Perdido Beach because my stupid fucking book bag didn't go with my outfit."

She cleared her throat and finished putting away the supplies. "Anyways," she said. "I'm not really into this kind of thing anymore. You have fun, though."

Without another word, she left.

* * *

"Mom would flip her shit if she saw you," was the first thing Virtue said upon seeing him.

"That is precisely the point, my friend," Sanjit told him.

"I still think you look like a clown."

"Really? Lana said I look _dashing_."

Virtue gave him a flat look. "No, she didn't."

Sanjit grinned. "You got me. I'm paraphrasing. She actually said I was the prettiest man she'd ever laid eyes on."

"No, I didn't," Lana said, walking past them in the hall.

Virtue gave him a smug look as he walked off. Because Sanjit was a responsible, mature fourteen year old boy, he only _thought_ about sticking his tongue out.

"Ms. Healer-Lana!" Pixie called out from where she and Peace were coloring.

Sanjit turned in time to see Lana tense, but still she stopped and looked down at the toddler. "Just Lana is fine," she said stiffly. "What do you want?"

"Can you paint my nails like Sanjee's?"

Lana hesitated for a half-second, then sighed. "Sure."

"Mine too!" Bowie yelled.

"Okay."

They both squealed and ran off to get the nail polish. "Shut up," Lana snapped, as if sensing his gaze.

Sanjit raised his hands. "I mean, I— I didn't say anything."

Lana glared at him over her shoulder.

"I'm going, now," he said, taking a step back with his hands still in the air. "To show off my make-up to Peace."

Lana's eyes narrowed as if she was guessing at his plans, but she was distracted by Pixie and Bowie's arrival. Sanjit all but ran down the hall to Peace's room.

"Hey, Peace."

"What?"

"You want to paint your nails?"

"Yeah!"

"Lana will do it. She's right down the hall."

"Really?" Peace hugged her doll tighter to her. "I don't think Lana likes me very much," she admitted in a small, miserable voice.

"She does," Sanjit promised her. "Her face is just stuck like that."

He sent Peace down the hall and hurried off in the opposite direction.

* * *

There wasn't much to do in town except preen at the surprised, envious looks of his peers and pester Virtue at the hospital (Dahra quickly and effectively put a stop to that)—perks of being close with the Healer included not having to work.

So within a few hours Sanjit was back at Clifftop. He was barely in the door before Lana found him. "You think you're _so_ clever," she seethed, getting out a cigarette (she very rarely wasn't these days; Sanjit reminded himself to start hiding the cigarette packets).

"Generally speaking, yes."

She uncapped her lighter with a _shink,_ lit the tip of the cigarette, took a drag, and blew the smoke in his face. He frowned and stepped to the side, trying not to cough.

" _Rude,_ " he reprimanded, but he wasn't angry. He wasn't even annoyed. As far as he was concerned, this was an overwhelming victory.

Each of Lana's nails was painted a different, horribly clashing color, as if small children had done them.

**Author's Note:**

> Sanjit and I agree on one thing and that's that Lana Arwen Lazar's happiness >>>> everything else.
> 
> Please leave a comment. I feed off of them.


End file.
